


Glory and gore go hand in hand

by judgehangman



Category: Makai Ouji: Devils and Realist
Genre: Blood Magic, Dissociation, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mind Control, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 15:12:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4710551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judgehangman/pseuds/judgehangman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You see, for you to be king, we can't just get rid of the competition. Sytry and Camio aren't the only problem here. Yes, they are distractions but, ultimately, what's holding you back is that William kid.”</p><p>(Because I've had a few misunderstandings in the past, I'd like to reiterate: this is not a romance fic. This is NOT a fic for GilDan shippers. This is a Dantalion fic and is centered around Dantalion's feelings and trauma responses)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glory and gore go hand in hand

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I don't even know why I wrote this. I just needed to get this out of my chest, I guess. I'm incredibly upset.
> 
> (title and lyrics from "Glory and Gore" by Lorde)
> 
> To clarify a few things: there is no gore in this fic. The sexual abuse is only implied/referenced and it is not portrayed in a good light. This relationship is not portrayed in a good light. Gilgamesh's feelings are not given much attention other than to show him as predatory and abusive. Yes, Dantalion is dissociating as a trauma response. No, this is not a GilDan fic. No, this is not a romance fic.

The sun rose like it always did.

Dantalion wasn't sure why he thought it wouldn't. He buried his face onto the pillow, exhaling through his mouth. Maybe it was because he hadn't noticed the sunrise the previous days. He didn't think he was allowed to appreciate sunrises anymore.

Oh, Gilgamesh's smile had been so convincing, saccharine words dripping with empathy. But he should have known better. He knew that the moment Gilgamesh touched him everything he felt was going to be extinguished. He'd experienced that before, had known the way this ancient god could control people at the smallest touch. There was nothing he could've done to prevent it.

Even now, as the spell started to fade and Dantalion wanted to cry, the other him, the him Gilgamesh had created, still whispered in his head. That was the only reason why Gilgamesh left him alone with the confidence he wouldn't run away. And even if he did run, would it matter? He'd been forced into an unbreakable contract. Gilgamesh could find him anywhere.

“You're thinking too much.”

Dantalion didn't reply. Not that he could, even if he wanted to. His words were only an echo of what they used be, staccato phrases that meant nothing. His voice was probably rough from the screaming. He coughed, wincing at how much it hurt to even do that. Not only his throat, but his lungs, as if some of his ribs were broken.

Gilgamesh touched his back, pressed down on the dark bruises as if he was trying to elicit a reaction. All Dantalion did was frown, the pain almost sweet if compared to everything else. With a disappointed sigh, Gilgamesh turned him around on the bed, roughly, and Dantalion whimpered at the pain. He looked at Gilgamesh with red-rimmed eyes and tears that would never fall. His expression remained otherwise emotionless, his body compliant to every touch. Through the haze, understanding threatened to surface, and it made him want to throw up.

“What are you giving me that look for?” He took the silver knife from the night-stand, pressed it gently over his own forearm until blood coloured his skin. “Drink it.”

Dantalion obeyed, pressing his lips to the cut, because he had no other choice. Gilgamesh watched him with a smirk, exhaled loudly as Dantalion's fangs pierced his arm. He counted the seconds, channeled the intent into his own sacred blood, and pulled his arm away.

“Is this better?”

Dantalion nodded, his pain gone. His emotions were gone as well, replaced by a pleasant cloudiness. He would do anything for Gilgamesh.

There was something he wished to say. What was it? He couldn't remember. The sun coming from his window was warm on his skin, but the sensation was murky.

 _Fight it,_ the voice in his head urged. He ignored it. Its thoughts slipped away like his thoughts always did. Thinking was too much effort, Gilgamesh could think for him if needed be. All he had to do was clear his mind, give in to bloodlust, let Gilgamesh assist him. After all, Gilgamesh was family, and Dantalion needed no one other than him.

Gilgamesh smiled. It was a good plan, after all. Brilliant, even. But Dantalion's resistance was starting to irritate him. Years ago, he'd been easier to manipulate. A small suggestion, an intrusive thought, a few drops of blood into his drink. The spell would only wear off if Gilgamesh wanted it to, because he'd gotten tired of the obedience. Maybe it was because before Dantalion had been desperate for something, had swallowed down his lies because he was so starved for feeling that he'd willingly give himself up.

Now, he fought, preferring to hurt than lose his agency. That was his problem. Gilgamesh did like it when he screamed.

He walked around the bed, Dantalion's eyes watching him the whole time. Despite the spell, there was something almost defiant in his gaze, as if part of him was still aware and willing to fight. Gilgamesh nonchalantly sat down on the bed, and crawled towards Dantalion like a feral cat.

“Is your pain all gone?” Dantalion nodded, but his breath hitched as Gilgamesh bit his wrist, drawing blood from his pulse point. “Don't lie to me.”

He kissed Dantalion with blood on his lips, then watched carefully as his eyes finally glazed over.

“Is your pain all gone, now?”

“Yes.”

Dantalion thought nothing. Felt nothing other than a desire to please him. Gilgamesh was his family. He _had_ to make him happy.

Gilgamesh kissed his neck.

“Is your sadness gone, too?”

Dantalion tried to think of what was making him suffer, but the feeling seemed foreign to him. Yet, that idea was almost artificial, almost as if he'd been conditioned to believe he didn't know pain. He trusted Gilgamesh knew better. His hands shook. Gilgamesh pressed a kiss to his neck, over a bruising bite mark.

“Yes.”

Gilgamesh scratched his chest, marking him. Dantalion's breath hitched, almost anxiously, almost as if he wanted to cry. He didn't understand why.

“Then there's something I want you to do. For me.”

“Anything for you”, he spoke, almost an instinctual reaction. He couldn't recognise his own voice.

Gilgamesh's nails grazed his stomach, his muscles contracted at the touch.

“I can only do so much to make your pain go away. A king feels no pain, no sadness, so we have to eliminate its source.”

He felt cold. Gilgamesh looked into his eyes, as if trying to further hypnotise him. As if his touches weren't enough to keep him under control. Dantalion shut his eyes, trying to understand why he was feeling those things. Gilgamesh had promised the spell would rid him of the monsters in his head. Yet, he could still hear them scream.

“You have to kill Solomon.”

Hadn't he done that already? His memories were hazy. Gilgamesh spread his legs apart, nails digging into his inner thighs.

“Kill Solomon?” his voice shook. He wanted to scream.

Gilgamesh's teeth scraped against his stomach, then his thighs. “You see, for you to be king, we can't just get rid of the competition. Sytry and Camio aren't the only problem here. Yes, they are distractions but, ultimately, what's holding you back is that William kid.”

 _William._ The name was almost a distant memory. Once, it'd made his heart flutter. Now, it made his insides twist with worry. He felt nauseous. The screams in his head got louder, almost as if they were coming from within himself. Almost as if part of him knew there was something wrong.

“He is just Solomon's vessel. Kill him, and you kill Solomon.”

“ _Stop touching me!”_ He pushed Gilgamesh away from him.

But he was only strong enough to fight it for a moment that passed too quickly. The spell was stronger than him, forcing him back into compliance. Unable to move, too emotionless to care, Dantalion had no reaction as Gilgamesh slapped him.

“Be nice”, he whispered in Dantalion's ear. “Remember that you are _here_ , helpless, _powerless,_ and I have access to the human world. With Sytry and Camio out of the way, nothing stops me from doing this very same thing to your precious William. Behave yourself, or I'm sure I can think of many things worse than death that I want to try on him.”

Dantalion blinked, inexpressive. Those words meant nothing, they evoked no feeling. His mind was cloudy, and he didn't know why he was shaking. Didn't know why Gilgamesh's words made his heart pound and his stomach churn. Yet, he made a point of relaxing against Gilgamesh's grip. He made a point of not trying to pull away or cringe when Gilgamesh grabbed his chin and forcefully kissed him.

“Are we clear?”

“I have to kill Solomon's vessel”, Dantalion said. “Then I will be the king of Hell.”

Gilgamesh smiled. “Exactly.”

He knew that was a lie. Somehow, he didn't have the strength to care. He pressed a kiss to Gilgamesh's neck, his jaw, his lips. He didn't know why he did that.

 _If anything happens to William, I will kill you myself,_ the voice in his head, his own voice, said.

 _That would be a kindness,_ he replied to his own thoughts, closing his eyes, and pretended he couldn't feel anything Gilgamesh did to him.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to clarify, once again: THIS IS NOT A ROMANCE FIC. If you're a GilDan shipper, don't shout at me for writing this. If you read this despite the content, do not fucking shout at me about the content. I warned you. You read it because you wanted to.


End file.
